


none of this is why you stay

by fasola



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt Peter, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 09:19:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17485460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fasola/pseuds/fasola
Summary: “Stay the fuck back!” Stiles ordered, throwing his arms out more as a warning than to place the shield, eyes trained on Peter, flickering between the gaping wound in his chest, his torn side.





	none of this is why you stay

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this work like two weeks and it just doesn't feel the way it should, imo.

“ _Stay the fuck back_!” Stiles ordered, throwing his arms out more as a warning than to place the shield, eyes trained on Peter, flickering between the gaping wound in his chest, his torn side.

 

The ground was sticky and wet beneath Stiles’ knees and he tried very hard not to think about that. Not now. Not yet.

 

Maybe he wouldn't get the chance.

 

“Stiles!” Scott yelled, horrified. “Stiles, what are you doing?!”

 

“You could die!” Derek shouted, slamming repeatedly into the shield. Bastard already saw right through Stiles.

“I _don’t_ care,” Stiles shouted right back.

 

A weak cough dragged his attention back to Peter and he fumbled to catch Peter’s hand in his, holding it over his cracked open chest. Stiles placed his other hand on Peter’s face, cupping his cheek in his palm. He didn’t have to be touching Peter for this, not with the way he already was covered in his blood, but it kept him from flying apart.

 

There was just too much wrong with this scene. Too much viscera, too much pain, too much hurt for a werewolf to come back from. Not enough light in Peter’s eyes.

 

Like with the shield, Stiles didn’t have to  make gestures, draw sigils, cast spells. His magic was his will, his love was his belief. Focusing it all on Peter was as easy and instinctive as breathing, although the latter cost less.

 

“Your Spark!” Derek tried again and that was the last Stiles heard from outside the bubble of space he’d put them in.

 

He didn’t need any distractions, not with the way Peter finally managed to look up at him, red the only color on his face.

 

“I don’t need it,” Stiles said, answering Derek and Peter both.

 

“Stiles,” Peter gasped, more groan than word. All question and reprimand and denial.

 

“I have all this power,” Stiles told him, “but what good is it if I have to watch you die in my arms?” He allowed his Spark to manifest in that moment, the amber swirl he’s spent years learning to mold and control, all of it clamoring to get to Peter, slipping in through the breaks in the werewolf's skin. “I don’t need it. I don’t want it. All I want is _you_. Alive for our wedding day.”

 

His voice cracked at the quip, as dumb as it was, it was no less true.

 

“Haven’t prop’sed yet,” Peter had the gall to say, before choking on a bit of blood.

 

Stiles didn’t know if it was possible, but he pushed harder at his Spark to leave, to do for Peter what once Derek did for Cora, but also more. Because Derek remained a werewolf, and Stiles will go back to who he was before.

 

It was a small price, he thought, desperately hoping that it won’t be for naught and his magic will take root in Peter.

 

He pressed his forehead to Peter’s, both to touch him and to give himself some sort of support as he felt exhaustion setting in his bones, a sure sign of his magic training.

 

“I’ll make sure you get the chance so you better do it right, you bastard. Go all out. Make me cry.”

 

Stiles startled a bit when he felt familiar fingers wiping at his cheek.

 

“Already did.”

 

“Differently,” Stiles told him, pressed soft kisses to Peter’s cheeks, his lips, “So just… _stay alive._ ”

  



End file.
